Procrastination Station
by SkinwalkerSkiddo
Summary: Fic fills for prompts I've received over on tumblr. Rick/Daryl one shots.
1. Baby Steps

_Author's Notes: This is gonna be where I post fills for fic prompts I've received over on tumblr. I've got a couple of cute fluffy ones ready to post and a smutty one in the works so look for those very soon._

_This first one was for the prompt: "Judith's first steps are toward Daryl and Rick won't leave it alone how Daryl reacts over it."_

—

It'd been one of the good days. Daryl and Glenn had led a small group out for a supply run that for once went off without a hitch, all of them returning safe and sound just before dark. They came home with two cars and the saddlebags of Daryl's bike loaded down with as much food, supplies, and other useful goods as they could cram into them. And some 'just for the hell of it' supplies too like several bottles of Tennessee whiskey, a bag of enormous colorful balloons, several big cans of hot cocoa mix, and even some tiny stale marshmallows.

It was a cool, quiet night and most of the group ended up sprawled across various surfaces in one of the old staff break rooms and settled down in nests of blankets and pillows. Most of the adults had sampled some of the whiskey and while there wasn't enough to go around to really get anyone drunk they all had a nice little buzz going.

The kids were playing in the wide floor space between all of them with toys and books and broken crayons. Every so often they would take breaks to sip on their cocoa and beg sweetly for more marshmallows from the dwindling supply remaining in the bag.

Carl even joined in with the other kids for once, still far more subdued in his games than the others and choosing to mostly play with his baby sister instead. She was standing up by herself now—with the help of the edge of a stool—and chattering animately at her older brother.

Daryl was tucked close against Rick's side, watching the kids with a lazy half smile. His solid weight was a little more loose and care-free than usual. He was still riding the high of the successful day and basking in the warmth of the alcohol he'd consumed, the two cigarettes he'd already smoked from a fresh carton he'd brought back from the run, and Rick's heat wrapped around him.

And now he had taken command of the bag of balloons.

The kids had a few that they were tossing back and forth and eventually they got most of the adults to play a game of 'the floor is lava' with them. Easily a dozen brightly colored balloons were bouncing all around the room, the kids chasing them to keep them from touching the floor and the adults lazily batting them from their perches on couches and chairs. Daryl kept blowing up more to send out into the fray.

Hershel was nestled comfortably in the middle of one of the threadbare couches with one of his girls on either side of him, tucked protectively under his arms like chicks come home to roost. Glenn was sitting on a cushion on the floor between Maggie's knees with his back agains the couch. Maggie stroked her fingers through his hair and he looked like he was probably asleep. Rick's suspicions were confirmed when one of the balloons bounced off Glenn's face and he startled awake with a curse.

Daryl had been the one to throw it and he chuckled at the glare Glenn sent his way before they both started laughing. The whole room joined in when Maggie grabbed the balloon and rubbed it against Glenn's head, the static making his hair stand up straight.

Then with a few quiet gasps they all went silent.

Judith had let go of the stool and was tottering across the middle of the open floor. All by herself.

And she was making a beeline straight for Daryl.

Rick couldn't help but laugh at Daryl's panicked expression as the realization of Judith's destination dawned on him. He tossed the bag of balloons away and fanned his hand out and kept waving it from Judith's direction toward Rick, as if he possessed the power of telekinesis and could make Judith totter towards her father instead. But Judith pressed on—drool rolling down her chin and a wide grin directed solely at Daryl—and Rick knew the instant that Daryl accepted his fate.

Daryl was still tense against him as he so so slowly and cautiously leaned down to hold his open hands out for the wobbly but quickly approaching little girl.

Judith stumbled a time or two but never went down and kept going, picking her feet up high and sticking her tongue out in concentration. Rick held his breath as she neared, witnessing this milestone in his baby daughter's life making his chest tighten and his eyes water just a bit.

She slapped her hands against the couch cushions when she made it and stood up on her tip-toes, babbling loudly at Daryl as scooped the little girl up with a round of cheers and applause breaking out across the room.

Hershel laughed and tightened his arms around his own girls. "No half-measures with that one, huh?"

Daryl beamed proudly at Judith, bouncing her on his knee and grinning as she clapped her hands together and squealed with delight at her own success.

"Didn't name her Lil' Asskicker for nothin'."

"Guess who's the favorite?" Rick rumbled playfully against Daryl's neck with a smile.

"M'not." The other man huffed, embarrassment flushing his cheeks as he rubbed his thumb gently against Judith's soft little hand. She grabbed the digit and chattered at it before pulling it into her mouth.

"I think I should be jealous but watching you with her is the cutest damn thing I've ever seen."

"I second that!" Michonne announced with a cheeky grin from the other side of the room. A chorus of 'thirds,' 'fourths,' 'fifths,' and so on sprang up from the others.

Daryl's flush had spread to his ears and neck before he finally barked at them to knock it off. Judith released his thumb to giggle at his outburst, reaching up to curl her fingers in the few chest hairs peaking out above the buttons of his shirt.

After that everyone quieted down again. The Floor is Lava balloon game started up again and Judith trilled happily at the balloons before an enormous yawn led to her burrowing down against Daryl's chest.

The last bottle of Jack was passed around the room and Rick took a healthy swallow before handing it to Daryl, wrapping his arms around the other man and pulling him and Judith closer.

"I bet my Colt that when she gets older you're gonna be the one she goes to for advice about everything. She's gonna want to know from the cool parent how to pull pranks on Carl, how to make her own little poncho, get crossbow lessons, and then before ya know it, she'll start askin' about dating and _boys_." He snickered when Daryl choked in surprise and then wheezed as the alcohol burned his throat.

He stopped chuckling when Daryl jammed an elbow back against his ribs. Judith—still fighting sleep—giggled at the pained sound he made and raised up to lean far backwards over Daryl's shoulder to grab at a handful of his beard, trilling happily at her father.

"Ain't gonna be _none_ of that. Not til she's at least thirty." Judith squealed when Daryl tickled her belly where her shirt had ridden up and he pressed a kiss against the crown of her head as she yawned again, sliding back to curl up against his chest.

"Yeah, good luck with that. You'll be chasing boys out of the cell block with the crossbow before ya know it." Rick teased, stroking his fingers gently through his daughter's downy hair and leaning in to kiss Daryl's temple.

Daryl settled down to rest his head against Rick's shoulder and sighed in contentment. He pulled his poncho off the back of the couch to tuck it around Judith as she finally began to drift off to sleep.

"Won't have to chase no one off."

Rick hummed in confusion and Daryl grinned.

"'Cause she'll kick their asses all by herself."

END


	2. Pocket Full of Glitter

_Author's Notes: Fill for "Rick and Daryl prompt - they get bored and decide to play pranks on each other." This is pretty dumb but I hope you enjoy it! :) More fills soon!_

—

The rain had been pouring down on them for nearly a week now. A hard, steady, never-ending rain that would soak you to the bone if you made the mistake of stepping out in it for less than a minute. If it kept up like this they were gonna have to build an ark.

In the grand scheme of things a week might not seem like a long time but it was more than enough to start driving all the residents of the prison a little stir crazy.

Especially Rick and Daryl.

They didn't handle cabin fever very well.

It started simply and stupidly enough. Daryl had a council meeting that he was already very late for—Rick had a hell of a knack for creating distractions—and he was trying to find something to write with so he could make a list of what folks wanted for the next run. If it ever quit raining enough that they could actually make a run.

"Ain't we got any damn pencils or pens or fuckin' _crayons_ around here?" He hissed, digging through drawers and backpacks and making a royal mess of their cell, unaware that Rick had hidden all of the writing utensils the night before.

Still lazy and syrupy from a a lovely early morning romp after spending the very late night watch shift outside in the rain, Rick turned over and grabbed a pen off the nightstand and tossed it to the other man. Daryl didn't notice Rick's mischievous grin as he muttered his thanks and rushed down to the meeting.

Where he soon realized that he couldn't get the fucking cap off the pen.

Because _somebody_ had glued it on.

And so the prank war began.

A couple of hours later when Rick finally got up and started to leave the cell while still all bleary-eyed he crashed face first into an invisible forcefield. He nearly fell flat on his ass and once his sleep addled mind finally cleared a bit he realized what had happened.

There was fucking plastic saran wrap stretched tight across the doorway and duct taped to the walls on either side.

He couldn't help but grin. He knew exactly where that had come from. And it was _so_ on now.

Later that afternoon while looking for his lighter Daryl discovered that Rick had filled all of his pants pockets with glitter he 'borrowed' from the art supply box in the library that was supposed to be for the kids to play with. _Not_ for grown-ass men to use to fill up the pockets of other grown-ass men's damn pants.

After that, Rick found plastic zip-ties on every single gun he'd set aside in the armory that he'd been planning to clean and do maintenance on. And somehow the other man had managed to lift the folding knife out of Rick's pocket and get a zip-tie around it to hold it shut too.

He followed a faint trail of glitter back to their cell to get the pair of scissors he knew were in one of the cabinets only to find them zip-tied shut too.

The obnoxious little pranks continued on through to the next day, escalating when Daryl nabbed a tube of Orajel from the medical supply closet and rubbed an unfortunately large amount of the gel into Rick's toothbrush bristles. With his entire mouth numb and unable to talk without damn near drooling all over himself, Rick got his revenge at the breakfast table by sneaking up behind Daryl with a pair of scissors (that he had to borrow from Maggie because he still hadn't cut the zip-ties off his own pair) and cutting a massive chunk of Daryl's hair off.

At least he played it off as being Daryl's hair for as long as he could. Daryl nearly had a melt down before Rick grinned—still trying not to drool—and held up the thick lock of hair he'd braved the torrential rain to cut out of Michonne's horse's mane earlier.

Michonne overhead that and she informed both men that if they didn't knock it off she'd be shaving off all of their hair from the neck up in their sleep. With her katana.

And so a truce was formed.

That night, both men lay side by side in an uneasy silence while Judith snuffled happy in her sleep in the crib at the foot of the bed. Their skin and the sheets were shimmery in the lantern light with left-over glitter that had migrated from Daryl's pockets when they undressed for the night.

Rick sighed and turned to look at Daryl, laughing quietly at the glitter stuck to his cheek.

"That was pretty ridiculous." He licked his thumb and dabbed the sparkles away, grinning as Daryl squirmed.

"You're tellin' me," Daryl huffed but rolled over onto his side to face the other man with a lazy smirk. "Helped pass the time at least. And it sounds like the rain's finally lettin' up a bit."

Rick hummed and tangled his fingers in Daryl's hair, listening to the soft drum of rain on the prison roof and windows. Maybe tomorrow they'd be able to get some work done outside again.

"You should've seen your face when I held up that horse hair." Rick teased, tugging lightly on too-long dark hair and Daryl groaned.

"Yeah, I knew you were an asshole. Didn't realize you were that _big_ of an asshole." He reached under the covers to pinch Rick's bare hip none too gently.

"I thought you were gonna have an aneurysm or somethin'. You actually _shrieked_." Rick snickered and leaned in to press biting kiss against Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl jammed a fist down into his pocket and then rubbed the handful of glitter he pulled out of it through Rick's hair.

END


	3. Short & Sweet

_Horribly late fill for this lovely prompt I received on Tumblr:_

_"Rick is tired of being distracted by Daryl eating with his fingers, and starts doing the same to get his point across. Maybe he gets a little more than he bargained for? ;)"_

_Hope it's sort of what you had in mind!_

—

Old habits leftover from a lifetime of not knowing when he was going to get a meal or who might try to take the food from him once he finally hunted it down left Daryl with pretty atrocious eating habits. He didn't do so bad if he knew anyone was watching and made an effort at some semblance of civility but if he thought he was free of any attention or just too damn hungry to care he ate like a neanderthal. All sticky fingers and lips and a smear of food on his chin that he'd wipe off with the back of his wrist and then lick that clean with a slick pink tongue.

And why in Christ's name Rick found that so_attractive_he didn't think he'd ever know.

And not just an endearing sort of a attractive, no this was a had to discreetly adjust himself under the table or leave the room level of attraction.

It was time the other man got a taste of his own medicine.

Daryl had been outside the prison all morning and afternoon, laying snares and tracking down a fat buck before putting an arrow through his heart and dragging the carcass back home.

The proud hunter and one of the Woodbury men had butchered the deer and Beth and Carol cooked up some ribs and steaks and even made a crumbly caramel apple spice cake with some sort of sugary glaze on it. Would have been a hell of a lot better with butter and eggs but those were hard to come by these days and it was still pretty damn good.

And perfect for what Rick had in mind.

Nearly everyone else had already finished eating by the time he, Daryl, and a few others sat down in the cafeteria. Rick took a seat across from Daryl and after watching him dig into the food for a moment, started in on his own dinner.

Taking his cue from the other man and forgoing his fork, he started pulling the meat apart with his fingers. It was slick with juice and grease and he slowly put one piece at a time into his mouth. He lapped at his fingers each time, tongue catching on nails and knuckles and he grinned at the double-take Daryl gave him when he finally noticed what Rick was doing.

The rest of the meal was spent with Daryl growing more and more flushed, fidgeting and squirming in his seat and trying and failing multiple times to not stare at Rick's shameless display. Daryl kept glancing around at the others in the room, Glenn, Maggie, Sasha and Carol but no one seemed the wiser.

By the time Rick was halfway through with dessert Daryl was a wreck.

Rick drew two fingers through the remains of the sticky glazing smeared across his plate. He locked eyes with Daryl as he lifted them into his mouth, wet lips sliding down past the second knuckle and cheeks hollowing as he slowly sucked. He met Daryl's wide-eyed gaze with a devilish look.

Daryl stood up so fast he knocked his chair over.

Glenn startled at the sudden crash beside him and blinked up at the other man as he stalked around the table towards Rick. "Everything, uh, okay?"

"Me 'n Rick need to talk." He muttered over his shoulder as he grabbed Rick by the elbow and damn near drug him out of the cafeteria and down one of the dark corridors leading to the cell blocks.

"Your fuckin'_mouth_," Daryl growled against his lips before devouring them in a vicious, desperate kiss.

Daryl kissed Rick like he was starving for him. His tongue chased the last traces of dessert sweetness from Rick's mouth and he was more than happy to succumb to the amorous onslaught.

When they broke apart Rick barely got a breath before it was knocked right back out of his lungs as Daryl shoved him against the rough concrete wall behind them. He crowded up against Rick and kissed him again.

"You started it." Rick bit into Daryl's lower lip and smirked when the other man's chest shuddered with a moan.

Daryl's eyes darkened as he bared his teeth in an alarmingly predatory grin.

"Yeah and_you're_gonna finish it, ya damn tease."

He wrapped his fingers around Rick's shoulders and pressed_down_.

Surprised but immensely turned on by Daryl's sudden show of dominance, Rick went willingly to his knees.

If this was the result he might just have to tease the other man more often.

A brief thrill of claustrophobia swept through him at being trapped between Daryl's heat and the cold wall at his back. The rough floor bit into his bony knees but his arousal quickly won out over any hesitation at the close quarters and compromising position in the not-so private place.

Rick leaned forward to curl his fingers around Daryl's hips and mouth at the fly of Daryl's cargo pants over his swelling cock. He rumbled in amusement against the saliva-dampened fabric at the other man's choked off moan and set to work undoing his belt and flies with clever fingers.

Daryl's own fingers stroked through Rick's unruly tangle of curls, urging him on but even now not forcing him. His etiquette might be lacking at the dinner table but Rick appreciated the show of manners here.

Once his flushed and heavy cock was pulled free of pants and underwear, Rick set to work. He lapped at the slick head, swirling his tongue through the precome gathered there before sliding his lips down as much of the heavy length as he could manage. He wrapped a tight fist around the inches he couldn't manage and pumped the swollen flesh in time with the bobbing motion of his head.

Daryl slapped a hand against the wall behind Rick to brace himself, biting his lower lip to muffle a moan that threatened to echo loudly through the hallways as Rick hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard.

"_Fuck_."

Rick hummed his approval and Daryl cursed again.

Daryl didn't last long. Especially not after Rick looked up at him and let the head of his dick slide down his throat. And then he swallowed and Daryl came with a muffled shout and a clench of his fist in Rick's hair.

After swallowing his spent and licking his sensitive cock clean, Rick leaned forward to rub his beard against the tender skin of Daryl's lower belly.

"Well that wasn't_exactly_what I was going for back there but it was still pretty fuckin' nice." He grinned up at Daryl and licked his lips rather obscenely.

Daryl sucked in a sharp breath and pulled his hands away from the wall and Rick's hair to wrap both of them under Rick's arms, yanking him up to his feet and then dropping down to his own knees to swap places with the other man.

Rick groaned as Daryl smirked up at him while he eased the fly of his jeans down with his _teeth_.

"Yeah, well. S'your turn now."

END


	4. Up Against the Wall

_Fill for a fantastic prompt I received over on Tumblr: "you write amazing sexual scenes, and honestly I just really want to see you write impatient rickyl wallsex, I'll be completely happy with whatever context it's in. suggestion's there if you get bored enough!"_

_Thank you for the great prompt, Anon! Sorry for the delay but I hope it is something like what you had in mind. :)_

_—_

_"Too fucking close,"_ Rick growled against his lips as he broke their frantic kiss to shove Daryl back against the wall just inside the door of the little cabin they had taken cover in. A group of walkers—fucking herds had a hell of a knack for appearing out of goddamn _nowhere_—had cornered them in the residential suburb of tightly packed houses that they had been scavenging through only a few minutes before.

After watching the dozens of shuffling undead grow more alert with their scent on the breeze they ran fast and quiet through the maze of houses, weighed down with packs heavy from the supplies they'd managed to gather. The herd had cut them off from their vehicles so they were trying to find a place to lay low until the walkers moved on.

The ground was sloppy and muddy from a rainstorm that passed through earlier that morning. It slowed the undead but not enough to really matter since Rick and Daryl were sinking down into the muck too.

A stream of walkers stumbled out from behind a house in the backyard they had been running through, cutting them off and with another crowd of moaning corpses closing in behind them they were surrounded.

Daryl grabbed Rick and they ran for the back door of the house they were trapped behind. He kicked it open and they ducked inside, piling furniture and whatever junk they could grab in the dark against the ruined door to slow the walkers trying to break through. Daryl stumbled back and clicked his flashlight on.

They were in a basement workshop. It had flooded in the storm and they waded through murky water up past their ankles towards the staircase.

Water was dripping steadily from several discolored, rotten patches in the ceiling. Rick whispered something about making sure they were careful on the floor above them while they looked for an exit.

Daryl tried to heed those words but after their presence roused a house full of walkers that they had to fight off as soon as they entered the top floor it slipped to the back of his mind.

Until he had two walkers bearing down on him and he stepped back onto one of the weak spots that gave way under their combined weight.

The sound of rotting wood splintering and Daryl's choked off curse of surprise made Rick turn from the walker whose skull he was bashing in with a lamp stand just in time to see Daryl disappear along with the two walkers as the floor opened up under them.

Daryl must have blacked out for a few seconds because when he opened eyes that he didn't remember closing he was staring up at a gaping hole in the ceiling above him and his back ached from partially landing on his crossbow. It'd be a fucking miracle if the damn thing wasn't broken. _Same for his back_, he thought just a little hysterically but then the ground below him started moving and that was far more worrisome.

The ground below him was not only moving but it was _grabbing_ for him.

He'd broken his fall on the two walkers. One must have bashed its head in on something when they landed because it was motionless in the water but the other one was still very much active and was clawing its fingers into Daryl's vest as he tried to scramble away from it in the dark, wet basement.

Rick was shouting upstairs, his flashlight beam jumping around as he moved and just when Daryl thought he was finally untangled from the walker its mouth closed down on his shoulder with a painful _crunch_.

Daryl cried out and tried to grab for the knife on his hip but before he could get his fingers around the hilt the walker was blown away from him in an explosion of gore and the deafening percussion of Rick's Colt.

The sound was painful in such close quarters and his ears were ringing as Rick pointed the flashlight beam in his face and grabbed him. While Daryl reeled and cursed and sputtered about being deaf and blind Rick yanked him to his feet and helped drag him through the flooded basement and up the stairs.

The house was cleared but there was still a dull roar of groans and the pounding of dead hands on the siding of the house outside.

Rick didn't stop. Daryl was still trying to catch his breath, his shoulder and back ached, but Rick kept one arm around him and together they blasted right out the front door, through the remaining stragglers that hadn't shuffled around to the back of the house when they ducked inside, and off into the woods at the back of the subdivision.

Daryl's pounding pulse was the only thing he could hear in his slowly clearing ears and his legs felt a little like jelly but he ran alongside Rick until they stumbled upon the long-abandoned hunting cabin.

They slipped inside quickly and after clearing and securing the building they looked across the room at each other, panting for breath and covered in walker gore. He could see the other man's pulse hammering away in his throat as he stared at Daryl with such a look of incredulous, agonized fear that it made Daryl's chest ache.

Rick spoke in a pained, broken voice.

_"Don't do this to me, Daryl."_

Daryl reached up to touch his throbbing shoulder.

"I'm okay, Rick. S'alright. It didn't break the skin."

Rick crossed the room in a few long steps and crashed right into him.

He couldn't yank Daryl's clothes off fast enough.

Daryl didn't try to stop him nor did he try to help. He was suffering from a tiny dash of shock and his shoulder hurt but he knew from the lack of sticky hot blood that the bite hadn't broken through the thick layers of leather and denim and fabric. A desperate, sobbing groan of relief left Rick's lips as he saw for himself and he kissed Daryl.

"That was stupid and ridiculous and _too fucking close_," Rick growled against Daryl's throat, mouthing and sucking at the flesh that had come so close to being ripped open by jagged walker teeth. It was sore as shit, a blue and purple bruise already forming in the shape of a wide open mouth but Daryl didn't push Rick away.

He needed to know Rick was okay just as badly.

Daryl wrapped his hands around the back of Rick's skull, tangling his filthy fingers in equally filthy curls and pulled him away from Daryl's throat to crush their lips together again.

"Fuck me," he breathed against chapped lips when they finally parted.

Rick sucked on his lower lip before releasing the skin with a nip. Ever the practical leader, he looked like he was going to question to request, make them both tamp down their lust and need but when he caught the other man's wild eyes he swallowed and nodded.

"Don't have any lube," he warned.

Daryl leaned in for another sloppy, biting kiss.

"_Don't care_," He reached down to grope at Rick through his jeans, "Just hurry up and get that in me."

Two pairs of hands scrabbled at Daryl's belt and the fly of his ratty cargo pants. After getting nowhere fast Rick shoved Daryl's hands away with a growl and yanked open his belt and zipper.

Rick shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs and Daryl kicked them off over his boots in a tangled heap. His shirts and vest were all unbuttoned and open but neither men took the time to finish pulling them off his shoulders. He ignored Rick's own shirt in favor of unhooking his belt and fly.

He barely got his hand on Rick's already half-hard dick before the other man pushed him away, sucking kisses up the side of his neck and into his hairline.

"Turn around and brace your hands on the wall," He growled against Daryl's ear. "Wish I had some damn slick but we'll have to make do since you're so keen on some life-affirming sex."

Daryl snorted out a laugh that was higher and more desperate sounding than he'd intended. He turned, burying his red face in arms crossed in front of him on the wall. "You seem pretty keen on it too. And what happened to always being prepared, Mr. Boy Scout?" He rolled his hips back encouragingly.

Rick dropped to his knees behind him and bit Daryl right on the ass cheek.

"Ain't got time for your sass." He spread Daryl open with hot, calloused fingers and an even hotter tongue.

Rick worked him open with a brutal and sinfully wet enthusiasm that had Daryl's knees going weak and desperate little sounds slipping past his lips that he was quick to smother by biting into the skin on his forearms.

They were a ways away from the herd but better safe than sorry.

But if Rick kept doing _that_ with his tongue Daryl was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stay quiet for very long.

He pressed his cheek against the rough wall and squeezed his eyes shut tight to try and calm his nerves. And then Rick crooked two saliva slick fingers up against his prostate and he damn near came right then.

"Fuck! _Rick._" The other man's hot breath fanned out in heavy puffs against his over-sensitive skin and Daryl groaned as a third finger was added, stretching him wide open and leaving him wanting more.

Once Daryl began rocking back to meet his fingers Rick pulled away, stood, and quickly spun Daryl back around to face him. He crowded the other man close against the wall and urged first one leg up and then the other, easily taking Daryl's weight around his waist and in his arms.

Daryl's head was spinning with near frantic need as he wrapped his arms around Rick's shoulders, surprised and immensely turned on by the man's strength. He kissed at whatever he could reach, jaw, neck, throat, and babbled at Rick to hurry up.

Rick ducked his head and his swollen lips—and Daryl couldn't but groan as he thought about where those lips had just been—kissed and sucked at his sore neck. He could feel the hot brand of Rick's length pressing insistently against him where he was open and wet with Rick's saliva.

"You ready?"

Daryl rolled his hips down and groaned as the tip of Rick's cock slipped into him.

"_Fuck_ _yes_."

Despite going slow the stretch was enough to make Daryl suck in a sharp gasp. The absence of adequate lubricant made for a rough push that was almost too much but Daryl concentrated on relaxing his muscles and calming his breathing.

Rick bottomed out and Daryl scraped his teeth across the sweat slick skin over his bared clavicle and tightened his thighs around Rick's hips.

"Christ I always forget how fuckin' huge you are. Just, don't move yet."

Rick shuddered against him, flanks twitching with the urge to thrust into the tight heat but he complied to Daryl's request and set about distracting himself and Daryl with heady kisses.

Daryl wasn't ready when he nodded for Rick to move. He knew he was going to be sore as hell for the next few days but he couldn't care less right now. He needed this and Rick did too.

Rick started out slow, not wanting to hurt Daryl and still give him a chance to adjust but the easy pace didn't last long.

Daryl dug his fingernails into Rick's skin under his shirt, leaning forward to press his nose against his neck and breath in the sharp tang of sweat and the earthy musk of his arousal. The intense, knife sharp edge of this fuck threatened to be overwhelming and it had him feeling like he could come already and his dick hadn't even been touched yet.

And then Rick shoved in with a thrust just the right side of brutal as Daryl clawed angry red lines across his shoulders.

He tossed his head back with a breathless sob and squeezed his thighs tighter around Rick's hips. "Do—_ah_, do that again, right there. Harder, Rick."

Rick pounded into him, pinning him hard against the wall with every rough thrust that was deep enough to make his toes curl and boot heels dig hard against Rick's ass.

It was uncomfortable. The stale air in the cabin was thick and humid and the rough lumber wall behind him bit into the small of his back where his shirt had ridden up. Sweat stung his eyes and Rick wouldn't leave the angry bruise on his shoulder alone, sucking harsh kisses into the discolored flesh and lapping at the new bruises he was making but Christ it was all still fucking perfect and Daryl wouldn't change a thing.

Except maybe include some actual lube. Spit made for _lousy_ slick.

With a sharp twist of his hips Rick found his prostate and Daryl sank his teeth into the other man's shoulder through his shirt to quiet the high sob that threatened to spill past his lips.

Rick dug his fingers hard into Daryl's hips and thighs, holding him close and panting against his throat as he thrust harder.

He could feel his orgasm building, a firestorm in his belly threatening to rip him apart and when Rick rasped at him to touch himself he barely got his hand wrapped around his cock before he was coming.

Daryl fucking _wailed_ as his orgasm slammed into him. Rick couldn't free a hand to clamp over his mouth for fear of losing his grip on the writhing man so he surged forward to smother the wanton sounds with his mouth, smirking breathlessly into the kiss as Daryl's lips trembled against his.

A ragged groan stuttered past Rick's own lips as he came, Daryl's tight clenching heat pulling his orgasm out of him.

Daryl was still shuddering and sucking in fast breaths when Rick gingerly eased them down to the floor. A tired groan rumbled in his chest as Rick pulled out of him and he couldn't help but wince at the burn.

"Shit that was good but we might have to put the Triumph in the truck for the trip back. Between landing on my ass back in that basement and then a damn fine fuck m'not sure I wanna ride home on the bike." He smirked and Rick chuckled softly and nuzzled at Daryl's jaw.

"Sorry about that."

"Nah, don't be. It was worth it."

They sat tangled together on the dusty floor for long quiet minutes before Daryl's soft, snickering laughter interrupted the silence. He grinned at the mildly concerned look Rick gave him.

"First time I ever killed a walker by falling on it. You should'a told me I was turnin' into a fatass."

Rick snorted and nipped at his neck.

"Funny. But don't you dare do that again."

He flashed Rick a tired smile. "Fall through a floor and use a couple of walkers as a landing pad? All in a day's work."

The other man sighed and pulled Daryl closer against him.

"I mean it. You ain't going anywhere without me." Daryl could hear the _can't lose you too_ on the edge of his words and he sighed, leaning in to press their sweaty foreheads together and breathe the other man in. His adrenaline was long gone and exhaustion was creeping in but they couldn't stay here. Not for very long at least.

But he supposed they were alright for at least a few more minutes.

"I ain't going anywhere without ya, Rick. You're stuck with me."

END


	5. Secret Scars

_Author's Notes: __Fic fill for this prompt I received over on tumblr: "saw you were asking for prompts at some point and was wondering if you could write a rickyl fic where rick finds out that daryl is trans?"_

—

Privacy was a thing from a world long gone so really, in the grand scheme of things, Rick was amazed he hadn't accidentally stumbled across Daryl changing clothes before now.

They had been living in each other's back pockets for months since the prison fell and long before that too but since settling down in Alexandria and sharing an apartment with the other man all Rick had seen were those whipcord arms and the hint of a bare midriff now and then when a shirt rode too high and pants too low.

After years of high school locker rooms, college dorms, and then married life and the showers at the police station, nudity wasn't something to shock Rick. He had seen his fair share of all sorts of naked bodies in every shape and size and even a few of them up close and delightfully personal too. He'd had his hands and mouth on soft curves, freckles, scars, stretchmarks, tattoos, piercings, even a couple of hard, narrow hips and hairy chests along the way and these days, in a world full of bloated rotting corpses and death all around them, he appreciated every one of those memories of happy, naked, _living_ bodies more than ever. They were the bodies of people he'd loved in some form or another and while it had been a lifetime ago those memories were reminders of what it felt like to be human.

Closest thing he got to feeling like that any more was being around Daryl.

They had been dancing around each other for months. They were two grown-ass men who were apparently incapable of discussing feelings or needs and so they continued to keep their distance and stare longingly at each other whenever one of them thought the other wasn't looking. They were bound to collide eventually but neither of them had drifted out of their obit of the other just yet.

Rick ached to put his hands on Daryl's skin and learn whatever stories it had to tell.

He knew the other man was covered in scars from a lifetime of abuse and violence. Rick had seen the ones on his back all those months ago at Hershel's farm when Daryl had damn near died trying to save a long-lost little girl. But he'd been caked in layers of old blood and filth and Rick had missed the faint lines of the scars that were hidden under the soft slope of Daryl's pectoral muscles.

He saw them now though.

He saw them as Daryl lifted his arms to scrub a towel through his dripping wet hair. He saw them and he couldn't look away.

Those were surgical scars.

Daryl was slick and clean from the shower, his hair hanging long and dark and damp in tangles against his neck and down into his eyes as he tossed the towel aside. He was loose-limbed, calm and content and absolutely _stunning_, secret scars and all.

Flushed skin shifted over lean muscle when Daryl reached down to pull the other towel free from the knot it was tied in around his narrow waist. It hit the hardwood floor with a soft wet thud and then Rick was seeing everything. Muscle and freckles and scars and tattoos he had never witnessed before were all laid bare right there in the warm light cast by the old oil lamp illuminating the room.

It was a private and intimate moment but Rick still couldn't look away from the secrets of Daryl's skin. Especially not as his gaze drifted down, down to where Rick would have expected until just a few moments ago to see a soft flushed length of flesh but instead saw nothing but dark curls.

And that's when Daryl finally saw Rick.

Rick had seen Daryl plow through a herd of walkers with nothing but his crossbow and a little Ruger pistol but he had never seen him look as terrified as he did in that moment when he realized Rick was staring at him and _seeing_ him.

Rick was actually glad that Daryl didn't have his crossbow or that little Ruger pistol right then because he was damn sure Daryl would have shot him with one if not both of them once he recovered enough from the shock to go from fear to fury.

"Get the _fuck_ out."

—

By the time Daryl finally got dressed he had flung practically every article of clothing or piece of gear in his possession around his room like a fucking whirlwind made of anger and hurt.

Fucking _Rick_.

Fucking rude asshole, sticking his damn nose in everyone's goddamn business day and night.

Fucking awful, perfect, stupid sonofabitch for making Daryl's damn chest ache every time the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. For making his touch-starved skin shudder every time Rick clapped him on the shoulder or when they were pressed side to side in a firefight.

Daryl hated how head over fucking heals he was for the other man.

There was a soft, barely there knock at his door.

"No."

The knock came again, only slightly louder this time.

"Fuck _off_, Rick."

A pause. But then another knock and Rick's voice quietly asking to come in.

Daryl was seething but he couldn't stop thinking about Rick's remarkable reaction to seeing him naked. Rick hadn't looked disgusted or horrified or even surprised really. Nor was there any hint of that animalistic lust like there had been with the one or two ill-fated attempts at one-night stands that had turned out to be creeps who saw him as nothing more than a piece of meat to satisfy their fetish. No the look that had softened Rick's features had been dangerously close to some sort of aching tenderness or affection.

Rick had looked at him like he _loved_ him, even then with all his secrets laid bare, and that terrified him.

The knocking continued and Daryl finally caved and walked towards the door to fling it open before backing in to the room, arms crossed tight over his chest and chin held high.

"Got something you wanna say to me?"

Rick slowly stepped into the bedroom and carefully closed the door behind him before facing Daryl. His eyebrows rose at the state of the room but he quickly schooled his expression towards apologetic.

"I'm sorry I barged in on you, Daryl."

"Yeah, well, whatever. Guess you know what a freak I am now." The words were poison in his mouth, sucked from old wounds and spat back out in a failed attempt at self-preservation. Cut yourself before they cut you deeper.

Rick frowned and stepped closer. "No I don't. Because you aren't a freak, Daryl."

"You ain't gotta try and sugar-coat it, Rick. I've heard it all before so you ain't gonna hurt my feelings. I know I'm a freak of nature."

"You're perfect just like you are."

The younger man scoffed and crossed his arms protectively over his chest again, hunching in on himself ever so slightly.

"I mean it. Well, I mean I guess you can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes and one hell of a stubborn bastard too so maybe _perfect_ ain't the best word."

That surprised a gruff laugh out of Daryl. He did his best to glare at Rick but his smile was contagious and Daryl found himself relaxing and letting his arms drop to his sides.

"You're an asshole."

Rick's smile widened and he finished closing the distance between them. Moving slowly so Daryl would have a chance to step away if he wanted—_he didn't_—Rick reached his arms out and engulfed Daryl in an embrace that he wanted nothing more than to to melt into.

They stood together like that for a long while, Daryl's arms eventually coming up to wrap tight around Rick's shoulders and Rick's arms warm and heavy and safe around his back. Daryl felt weeks and months and goddamn years of tension and fear ebbing out of him as he breathed in Rick's comforting scent and let down his guard enough to just enjoy being held.

It was too easy. Too fucking good to be true and Daryl shuddered as the gut-churning worry about all the what-ifs threatened to set in again.

"Rick. I ain't—m'not. You _saw_ what—" He bit back a sob of frustration and squeezed his eyes shut tight. The sensation of broad, warm hands stroking soothingly up and down his back startled him out of his thoughts.

"I know. S'okay."

He opened his eyes to find Rick staring at him with soft eyes and a gentle smile. A look that made his chest ache and his stomach do an unnerving flippity thing.

"You're Daryl. I'm Rick. You're mine and I'm yours. That's what I care about most."

Daryl breathed out a slow exhale and nodded against Rick's shoulder. He shuddered as Rick's calloused fingertips stroked up his bare arm.

"The plumbing's just the fun part," Rick teased with a crooked and altogether boyish smile.

Daryl glared at him and punched Rick in the arm hard enough to make him yelp.

He was quick to soothe the hurt though, leaning up to slam his lips against Rick's with a kiss filled with desperate longing _need_.

When they broke apart for air Rick moaned softly and rested his forehead against Daryl's.

"I meant what I said, Daryl. I don't care what you've got so long as it's _you_ that's got it. And if you want to share it with me then that just makes it even better."

Daryl fucking Dixon was absolutely not about to cry in relief so instead he shoved Rick back against the door frame and proceeded to kiss him breathless.

END


	6. Full Moon Fluff

_Author's Notes: Fic fill for this prompt I received over on tumblr: "I'd love to see Werewolf!Daryl demanding belly rubs from Rick" So I guess this is sort of an au of my Bad Moon Blues au but you don't need to read it to understand anything here. Rick and Daryl aren't really together yet and Daryl and Michonne are still the only werewolves at the prison. And I couldn't decide whether to write Werewolf!Daryl getting belly rubs as a wolf or a as human so you get a bit of both._

_Hope you enjoy this silly Halloween Eve werewolf fluff!_

—

A plume of steaming breath rose up into the clear, cold night sky as Rick utterly failed at stifling a jaw-cracking yawn.

Christ but could he ever go for a cup of coffee.

It was his turn for the midnight to daybreak watch in one of the guard towers and time was creeping by especially slowly. Judy had started cutting teeth and was in an understandably lousy mood about it so he hadn't been getting much sleep the last few nights. But she wasn't the only one causing trouble lately.

Tonight the moon was full and it was one of the biggest and brightest Rick could ever remember seeing. Must'a been one of those super moons that were always popular filler for the late night newscasts back when there was such a thing.

Daryl and Michonne sure were excited about it.

The two resident werewolves had damn near driven the prison's other inhabitants batty all week with their extreme mood swings and manic energy. They were both always a little more feral come a full moon but this was worse than usual. Apparently something about the moon being closer brought out the even wilder side of a lycanthrope and the two of them were acting every bit the textbook definition of lunatics.

They were short-tempered with anyone that got in their way but thankfully they only picked fights with one another since they were really the only matches for each other. Their brawls were loud and destructive and rarely had a clear winner but afterwards they would form a brief truce and lick the blood from each other's coats. Those truces would last a while until something set one of them off again. Usually it was territory or food.

Daryl and particularly Michonne were always bottomless pits but with this full moon cycle they were especially insatiable and neither of them seemed capable of getting enough food to fill their bellies. One of their worst spats started earlier that evening over a rabbit that had been seeking refuge from a world of ravenous monsters outside the fence only to find two more inside the prison yard. Rick would have felt sorry for the poor creature if he hadn't seen what it did to three __entire__ rows of bean sprouts in the meager beginnings of his garden before the wolves snatched it up and fought over its still warm remains.

It had barely been a mouthful for either of them but they still beat each other silly over it.

Now though, from where Rick was sitting, it looked like their never-ending reserves of energy were finally starting to run low.

His watch told him it was creeping up on four in the morning and the moon was dropping down towards the horizon while the sky towards the east was developing a faint pinkish hue.

Rick watched as the two enormous wolves slowly made their way up the long gravel driveway back towards the cellblocks. Their gate was loose-limbed and content and they seemed calmer than Rick had seen either of them in days. He caught himself exhaling a slow sigh of relief.

Maybe things would quiet down for a while now that they'd gotten all of that out of their systems.

Michonne shoved her shoulder against Daryl's when they neared the guard tower and she wagged her tail playfully when Daryl stopped and growled at her. Rick leaned against the railing to watch them, fully expecting another fight to break out but Michonne barked softly and turned back to head into C-Block.

Daryl stayed behind. He looked up at Rick with an unreadable stare.

Rick chuckled softly and stared right back. "What?"

The wolf held his gaze for a few moments longer before looking away and shaking his coat out with a huff. Then he made his way towards the base of the guard tower and Rick couldn't help but laugh again as the monstrous wolf whined and scratched his claws at the heavy metal door that led to the stairway.

"Alright, alright. Hold your horses, I'm comin'."

Rick had been planning to make a joke about how handy opposable thumbs were but as soon as he opened the door Daryl was shoving his way inside with typical Dixon bull-headed determination. Rick stumbled back to make room for the wolf.

"The hell's gotten into you?"

Daryl just grunted and ducked his head down, shoving it at Rick's legs and urging him back towards the stairs. He was quick to take the hint and started climbing back up into the guard tower with Daryl hot on his heels and herding him every step of the way like a damn sheep dog.

Once they reached the top Daryl stood in the doorway and again stared at Rick with eyes that shone bright in the low light.

"__What?__"

Long black claws tapped across the floor with each step until Daryl was standing right next to Rick, his hulking shoulders coming up to Rick's waist.

And then the wolf pressed so hard against his side that Rick nearly toppled over. He caught himself by grabbing onto the thick ruff of black and brown and silver fur on Daryl's neck.

Both man and wolf froze at that contact.

But Daryl just grunted and kept on pushing until Rick did fall over, right onto his ass with a non-too nice jarring of his spine. He swore and tugged roughly on the fist full of fur he still had a grip on.

"The hell, Daryl?"

He got a face full of hot breath for an answer as Daryl panted and lolled his tongue out in a toothy grin. Rick had never been so close to anything with teeth so big and it would have been a little unnerving if it wasn't __Daryl__ whose four inch long canine teeth were right next to his skull.

Before he could think anymore about those incredible fangs Daryl rather ungracefully flopped down against Rick with a heavy sigh. He squirmed and wallowed around, rubbing the scent glands in jaw along Rick's legs and boots and the floor around them before he did something truly shocking.

The wolf rolled over to bare his belly to Rick.

His thick tail thump-thumped happily on the floor but when Rick just stared at him in disbelief Daryl swatted at him with one massive forepaw.

And then he stretched out even further, as far as he could in the small space the guard tower afforded him, and crowded up close to Rick with his underside still on display.

Daryl wanted his belly rubbed.

Rick snickered quietly and Daryl growled, swinging a paw again but Rick caught it and carefully folded it back to rest against Daryl's chest with a chastising pat-pat that made Daryl's growl rumble loud enough for Rick to feel it in his chest.

"Settle down, tough guy. I got ya."

Finally giving in to the absurdity of situation, Rick reached out towards the enormous wolf sprawled beside him and Daryl's tail started thumping against the floor again.

Rick's touch was mechanical and light at first, barely straying from the curve of the wolf's chest. But as he tangled his fingers in the silvery fawn-colored hair of Daryl's underside he was quickly lulled by the texture of the soft fur under his rough, calloused fingertips. And by how Daryl just seemed to utterly __melt__ into the floor under his touch.

He was struck with the vivid memory of sitting in front of the old stone fireplace at his parent's house one Christmas Eve years ago, wrapped up tight in a quilt his mother made with too much good food in his belly and his older brother's huge German Shepherd curled on her back at his feet as he stroked along her flanks and abdomen.

It was one of those warm and fuzzy memories and Rick was smiling down at Daryl before he even realized it. The wolf watched him back with an oddly contemplative expression and Rick chuckled, shifting so he was a little more comfortable in the small space left that Daryl's bulk hadn't taken up.

Daryl was nearly three times as big as his brother's dog had been.

But this wasn't Lacy the German Shepherd or any other dog. This was Daryl.

Showing Rick his belly.

It should be a sign of submission or uncertainty over a stressful situation. That's the way it so often was with dogs that rolled belly up to their masters. But Daryl was no dog.

An overgrown puppy maybe but he was all wolf. __Werewolf__. And in Rick's mind this was not weakness or an attempt to appease an alpha. This was affection and camaraderie and downright easy trust.

A few stick-tights and cockleburs that Daryl had picked up during his and Michonne's roaming caught against Rick's skin and he carefully worked them free with his thumb and forefinger, flicking them away to the far corner of the room. Daryl rumbled softly and tried to press himself further towards the contact.

Rick stroked his hands down Daryl's chest and every few inches his fingers would skim over raised knots of scar tissue that were hidden under the thick coat of fur. He gently smoothed over them but didn't linger and Daryl never tensed up under his touch.

When his hands roamed down past the curve of the wolf's broad ribcage to the soft flesh of his belly a laugh was startled out of Rick as he brushed over first one set of nipples and then another and another. Daryl opened his eyes at the sound and he narrowed them suspiciously when he realized Rick was smirking at him.

"Well that's something I certainly never thought about before. Where do all those go when you change back, hmm?"

The wolf growled and swatted for his head with a paw larger than Rick's face.

"Oh cut that out you mongrel."

For revenge, Rick whipped out a tried and true trick that always worked on his brother's German Shepherd.

And Daryl might not be a dog but the result was still the same.

Rick scratched his nails back and forth quickly just under the slope of flesh below Daryl's ribcage. Immediately he tensed up and one back leg started kicking with a life of its own.

A hoarse laugh climbed out of Rick's throat at the comically confused look on the wolf's face and he carried on digging his fingers into Daryl's side even as he tried to squirm away—all while his leg was still flailing.

Just before Daryl became well and truly pissed off Rick stopped and smoothed the long fur along Daryl's ribs back into place.

"Truce, yeah? No more flinging those giant feet of yours around and I won't do that again."

Daryl rolled his eyes and growled but Rick decided to take that as a yes and leaned back to make room for the wolf to wriggle around until he was comfortable again. When Rick started rubbing at his warm belly in long, soothing strokes once more he heaved a sigh and closed his eyes in contentment. And a few minutes later his breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep. Rick soon found himself fighting to keep from doing the same. He sucked in a deep breath to try and wake himself up.

He got a nose full of musk and wet leaves and a hint of coppery blood.

It translated as __predator__ and __dangerous__ to his primitive hind brain and Rick wasn't entirely sure when that had become a scent he found __comforting__but it put him at ease and he finally closed his eyes with a quiet sigh.

He didn't fall sound asleep like Daryl but he did drift in and out of pleasant doze while petting the soft underbelly of the werewolf until the sun came up and Glenn came to take the next shift on watch.

Late that evening, after Rick tucked everyone and everything in for the night and got a still fussy Judith settled in her crib with a soft wet washcloth to gnaw on he sat on the edge of his bunk with a tired sigh and began unlacing his boots.

Daryl cleared his throat softly from the doorway.

"Hey. Everything alright?" Rick finished loosening his boots and toed them off.

"Mmhmm."

Rick took in the darkened bags under Daryl's eyes and the way he was holding himself stiffly but trying and failing to hide it.

"Hungover aren't ya?" He teased and grinned at the snort of amusement it brought out of the other man.

"A bit."

"I figured. That big moon sure had you and Michonne both acting a little…off." Rick smirked and Daryl ducked his head, hiding behind hair that was getting far too long.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." He crossed his arms protectively over his chest and watched Judith with a tender fondness in his eyes as she suckled on the damp washcloth in her sleep. That made Rick smile.

"Don't sweat it. I remember seeing werewolves tear their own houses apart after full moons like that back in King County. Hell, we got called out to a few that tore their __neighbor's__ houses apart too."

Daryl chuckled and leaned his shoulder against the cinder block frame of the doorway. "Yeah, you ain't in your right head on nights like that. Sorta like being really blind drunk. Makes you act nine kinds of crazy."

Rick hummed in agreement and stretched his legs out in front of him. He had a hint of where Daryl was trying to go with this.

Daryl gnawed on first the edge of a thumbnail and then his own lower lip as he shifted his gaze from Judith to the rest of Rick's cell. Looking for anything to latch on to besides what he felt he needed so say.

Rick didn't push, gave him his time and space.

After a moment Daryl stepped into the cell and eased himself down on to the creaky old office chair across from Rick's bunk.

"About last night. Uh, this morning. That was really…y'know." He huffed and fidgeted with his hands and Rick almost felt sorry enough for him to interrupt and end his awkward embarrassment, let him know they didn't have to talk about it and that it didn't mean anything.

Almost.

Daryl finally steeled himself and looked Rick right in the eye.

"What you did earlier? That was…nice. And maybe we could do it again some time or something. If you'd be willing."

Well.

That certainly wasn't what Rick had expected to hear come out of his mouth.

He wasn't complaining though.

He heard Daryl's throat click as he swallowed hard, waiting for Rick's response and trying not to show how anxious he was about it.

"C'mere you big bad wolf," Rick grinned and reached out to drag Daryl down onto the bunk against him. While Daryl was still spluttering and scrambling to try and right himself Rick wrapped one around tight around his chest to hold him still while he slipped his free hand up under the other man's vest and shirt and spread his fingers wide out over the surprisingly soft skin of the werewolf's warm belly.

Daryl froze.

He was stiff as a board, limbs comically splayed out and tensed for fight or flight even as he was sprawled out against Rick's chest.

Rick could feel Daryl's pounding heart beat where the other man's back was pressed against him and he chuckled softly.

"Settle down, tough guy. I've got ya."

With that echo of his words from early that morning he felt the first hint of Daryl beginning to relax against him.

He drug his fingers around Daryl's navel in a firm sweep and just like that the werewolf practically melted against him. So he kept going. Long, firm strokes of his palm up towards Daryl's chest and back down to the edge of his belt and pants then back again, digging his fingers into pliant muscle and flesh as he went.

Rick still wasn't sure exactly what this was but it felt good, felt fucking __right__ so he wasn't about to start questioning things. Instead he tucked his nose against Daryl's crown and breathed in that same wild animal scent that had lulled him to sleep only a few hours before.

When his hand rubbed against the curve of a hipbone Daryl shuddered against him, giving Rick an idea.

"If I rub the right spot will you do that kicking thing with your leg again?"

He grinned against Daryl's hair at the low growl that started deep in his throat and rumbled through both of them.

"If you mean me kicking your ass then yeah, you better believe I will, Rick."

"That sounds like a challenge."

Rick did eventually find the right spot. And Daryl's leg did do the kicking thing.

But before Daryl got the chance to come anywhere near kicking his ass Rick rolled them both over so they were laying side by side and distracted him with a first kiss that was soft and slow and sweet like molasses.

They didn't get much further than that but there was definitely the promise of more to come soon between each tentative, exploring press of lips and hint of tongue and teeth. And after a while, when Daryl's breathing grew slow and steady and his movements uncoordinated Rick urged him over on to his opposite side and pulled him back flush against Rick's chest, spooning up behind him and making Daryl snort out a quiet laugh before he pressed back against Rick's heat.

Rick wrapped his arm around Daryl's middle, hand resting firm and possessive over his belly as they both slipped into a warm and content sleep.

END


End file.
